


The Very Bad Day

by ChimeraEyes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimeraEyes/pseuds/ChimeraEyes
Summary: Yet another story requested by my dad.





	The Very Bad Day

Let us begin our story with the tragically wretched tale of one ordinary girl, Melody Smith.

With dark brown hair hair that tickled and bounced on her shoulders every time she walked, smooth and perfect skin, and piercing brown eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light, she was deemed rather beautiful; The most beautiful girl in school to be exact.

She was fourteen, a fall baby. The youngest in a family of three kids. The first, John, went to college and pursued a career in medicine. The second, Mary, was close to graduating high school at the top of her class and worked part time at a pet store. Melody, despite being so young, also had just as promising a future, being a straight a student at one of the best schools in the city.

Her family lived in a large and open house in the city, a house all the kids at school were extremely envious of since the day she moved in.

Melody was always stylish. Neither her nor her own parents could point exactly when she got on top of all the trends and all the popular clothing items but her mere style and charisma was enough to make even a supermodel in all her fancy magazines jealous.

But, of course, this was only to be expected when you were the mayors precious youngest daughter.

That's right. The mayor's daughter. You heard me right.

She could have any clothing, any makeup, any game system, any computer, any toys, and any candy she wanted. Nothing was out of her reach.

But as icing on the cake, Melody was believed to have an amazing personality. All her relatives; her grandparents, her aunts, her uncles, her distant cousins; all believed her to be a sweet, kind and charming girl who never told a lie or commit a crime in her entire life. They genuinely believed and convinced all their friends into believing that Melody was perfect and would continue being that way for the rest of her life.

But what her family failed to realize while they were showering Melody with praise, love, personal belongings and affection was that they had said all of this in the girls presence.

They always treated her that way, with everything she ever wanted and more, and she began to feel as though she didn't even need to try anymore, She was precious gold in their eyes so why would she need to believe herself anything less?

It was just the way she was raised and, as much as her legal guardians chose to blind themselves to the fact, it did have very many negative effects on her as a person. Maybe she was perfect once but certainly not anymore. It was certainly a tragedy.

Melody Smith was, in short, a spoiled rotten liar and no one really cared enough to see that.

She stole, she lied, she tricked, she hurt and she forced her “friends” to do the same all for benefit. She was most definitely not the good girl everyone believed her to be.

It appeared it would continue that way, an out of control train on the tracks that no one cared enough to stop. It would just keep building up speed and destroying fellow train cars till it destroyed itself.

But, what if someone had seen this and had decided to do something about this sad case.

And that is where our story begins. This is a short taLe about how alul that changed.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the worst of times, it was the best of times. The winds blew right and the winds blew left. The mornings were warm and the nights were cold. Flowers bloomed and time passed by at it's common pace.

Every day was the same.

This July first was presumed to be no different than any other day of the year. Same daily routines, same early morning fatigue, same three meals in the day. Nothing was out of the ordinary and every daily occurrence was expected and prepared for.

Perhaps that's what made it so special.

Melody rose from her queen sized bed beautifully in blissful ignorance, completely unaware of what this very special day had to offer.

She reached over to silence the alarm clock on her nightstand and get her hand held mirror to look at her face. She succeeded but what she saw in the mirror made her gasp dramatically.

Her tangled brown hair looked like a birds nest atop her head, rather than a tiara and that definitely made her displeased. Her original cheerful persona at seeing a brand new morning completely gone.

She would have brushed her hair and frozen it in perfection with hairspray then and there but she had left those on her vanity mirror.

She felt too exhausted to get it but she knew she had to in order to live so she pushed herself up from her bed with her arms.

Only to find herself yanked back like she was on some sort of leash.

With a pain in her scalp, she turned and much to her anger, locks of her tangled hair were caught in the splinters of her wooden bed frame with absolutely no intention of coming free; A massive mat was both stuck in and tightly tied around a large sprinter that Melody was afraid of touch in fear that she'd get a splinter herself and she absolutely would not rip her hair.

In her loudest and most helpless voice, she screamed the name of the maid, Ursula as she usually did whenever she was in trouble and Ursula was always very reliable despite being very old.

And, not minute after her cry for help, her room door came flying open and who should be standing there but a very dIstressed Ursula.

She looked panicked, like someone had robbed the house because Melody had scream like nothing less had been happening in her room at that very moment.

But of course, Melody had not turned the lights on because she was trapped in her bed and her room had already been very messy because she had been looking for a very particular kind of lip gloss in the bottom of her wardrobe and did not want to pick up.

So when Ursula came walking in to ask what had happened, her foot slipped on an empty soda can and she came falling forward. Luckily, she had good enough reflexes to step forward only to step on the special lip gloss Melody had been looking for and slip again.

Only this time, she took the vanity mirror with her.

Both her maid, her precious vanity mirror, and a few doors came crashing down loudly in one foul swoop. The sound seemed deafening and the ground shook like there was an earthquake.

The sound of makeup containers, glass and probably frail bones breaking was so loud in fact that it took Melody quite a bit of time to realize that she was actually screaming.

Her ajar door flew open once more to reveal Madison, Ursula’s niece and a new maid. She had short blonde hair, which was probably the color Ursula had in her youth, and piercing blue eyes.

Melody had assumed she would do better than her aunt because she was more youthful but she was quickly proven wrong when she rushed forward only to trip on some other scattered makeup items and landed flat on her face right next to Ursala.

Melody was stuck screaming, having still not learned her lesson that doing so was harmful, in her room for several minutes until her actually hero finally came.

The butler, Andrew.

But, much to Melody’s dismay and utter rage, he did not even so much as look at her. All he did was immediately help Madison up and call a doctor for poor old Ursula who still had yet to get up.

It made Melody mad. Wasn't he supposed to be a gentleman? Wasn't he supposed to help yount damsels in distress like herself? Perhaps she was wrong about him and perhaps shed talk to her father about lowering his pay.

The doctor came and did was completely trapped on her bed to whole time as she watched them pick up Ursula on a stretcher and take her away. They had a bit of difficulty doing so since the room was so messy, though. She heard the doctors say that she would be fine but she would need to stay in the hospital for quite a few weeks. Andrew looked very dismayed at this but Melody couldn't possibly understand why.

She knew Ursula was very good at her job but after her most recent display, she wasn't do sure anymore. She thought it best that she retire as soon as possible and maybe someone younger should take her place.

Once she was out of this wretched mess and once she let her anger cool, she was sure she was going to talk to her father about firing her and tell him exactly all the things she destroyed and broke in her tornado like entrance. He could do that easily, she was sure of it.

Finally, the ambulance sirens died in the distance of a new morning and her room was quiet again.

She got up and picked up her hair brush, which was luckily unharmed. She sighed as she went back to her bed, her legs feeling oddly weak and shaky.

But it was only when she began brushing her hair with the assistance of her hand held mirror by her bedside that she realized her hair was no longer stuck.

She gasped. She must have pulled herself free in all that panic about Ursula. Melody jerked her head around to the splintered bed frame to make sure none of her perfect locks had been ripped out and, to her relief, none were.

Yes, she was disappointed that one of her precious mornings had been utterly marred like this. Not upset, just disappointed. She thought she deserved every perfect day but she was willing to overlook this day already ruined and try to enjoy what she could.

With her heart without worry, she proceeded to her marble tiled bathroom to change out of her pink frilly pajamas and into the cute outfit and accessories she had chosen for this fine fine day.

Because her clutsy maids had destroyed half her good makeup which now lay ruining her beautiful white wool carpet, she had to go with some mild raspberry flavored two hundred dollar lip gloss and come fifty dollar blush. 

She applied some of what she thought to be light mascara only to be shocked at the pitch black color. Looking at the label, she saw that it was her permanent mascara that stayed on for weeks and not her favorite light stuff. She was so angry and would have thròwn a fit right there if she hadn't known that her tears would make the mascara streak and that was the last thing she wanted.

So, she was forced to go with it and put on some darkly colored makeup to match; deep green eyeshadow to make her look exotic and some blush that made her look fierce or whatever. In other words, by the end of it, she looked seven years older than she actually was. In her mind, she thought it made her look pretty but truthfully, it was far from it.

For an outfit, she got a white sleeveless cashmere sweater and some tight white leather shorts. She knew that the cashmere and the leather were probably both counterfeits but she didn't care.

To match, she got some plain white heels with some white diamond anklets to match. She put her hair up in a simple bun with a white ribbon of silk. She didn't care that it was plain because she could look positively amazing in anything.

She also wore white, thinking it would keep the heat away. The other things that came with wearing white had not even occurred to her at the time.

So, after getting dressed and applying her perfume, Melody made her way down the stairs and into the living room; a very very large room with three couches and a ninety inch flat screen television; and into the hall that led to the kitchen.

Once she made her way into her house’s massive and glorious, shimmering and majestic kitchen, she pulled a stool from the corner, sat down and waited for her breakfast to be brought to her.

She waited actually quite a long time. Normally, a made would emerge from the kitchen bearing a bright smile, a bright good morning and a plate with bacon, eggs and some apple sauce. It used to be Mary who would bring her food and they would eat breakfast together but now it was a maid. She didn't mind that much, though.

Now the room was utterly silent; she doubted even a single fruit fly was in.

Of course, she couldn't make her own food. That would completely unthinkable. She didn't even know how to turn on the oven, let alone cook herself a healthy breakfast.

That's what the maids and Andrew were for, anyways.

And speak of the devil.

Melody leapt in surprise at the sound of a familiar voice asking her to excuse them. When she turned around, she saw that it was Andrew himself. His red hair was a bit unkempt and his suit was all messed up. He looked like he just had a panic attack and Melody was a bit ashamed to look at him.

At first, she thought he had come to bring her breakfast but he quickly turned to her with a scary look on his face and she shrunk under his gaze.

He was blunt. He said that Ursula got injured because she heard Melody scream and ran into her room. She wasn't looking and tripped. Andrew asked why she had screamed to begin with but not in his usual manner of kindness and elegance. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was accusing her of something.

It was unusual. She had known Andrew for many years but she never felt scared under the watchful state of his deep blue eyes. He seemed angry with like an old woman tripping and breaking a few bones because of her own clumsiness was her fault.

But when she really thought about it, when she really used that dusty old piece of her mind she had not used in years to think about how she might have been responsible for the harm she caused on others, Melody realized that maybe she had been partially responsible for the injury.

She hadn't really felt this way before in a long time and Andrew never really scolded her before. She did not think she'd like it and the pit of guilt in her stomach for hurting Ursula over something so silly as her hair getting minorly stuck made her feel far worse than she would like.

Not to mention that in was embarrassing. She did not want Andrew to think she was a wimp or something. Melody cared about what he thought of her so she lied. She lied completely and utterly like she always did for no other reason than that she wa embarrassed and afraid.

Melody was a half decent actress even for her age. With fake tears and everything, she weaved this remarkably detailed tale about how she encountered not one but three very hairy and poisonous spiders upon waking up. That she, helpless to do anything, cried out for the only person she trusted.

She tried to make it sound as convincing as possible. She even cross referenced some movies for more gruesome details, but even with all her work, Andrew didn't believe her. He was smart and if she was older, she would have seen how ridiculous she sounded.

He played along and asked her what sort of spider and she said that she wasn't sure because she wasn't. She had made them up on the spot, after all.

But then he asked her another question. How did she know they were poisonous if she didn't even know what species they were? It was obvious that he saw straight through her story and she panicked under his harsh gaze.

She had not had breakfast or any energy drink yet but she ignored it when she got up from her stood and began to make her way towards the door because she was going to be late for school if she continued this conversation a moment longer.

As she sprinted, Melody heard Andrew call after her but she pretended she didn't hear him and made her way quickly out the front door.

She had narrowly escaped Andrews scolding which was the last thing she wanted. It was difficult for her to understand why even though she got her way, she still felt so upset. Perhaps it was because, deep down, she knew she did something wrong.

But Melody Thought she would just ignore it and trying to enjoy the rest of her day.

The moment the light hit her face, she knew she made a good choice in wearing white today. The sunlight was boiling, almost like someone was holding a magnifying glass over her and concentrating the sun rays.

As she walked forward, familiar enough with the yard to know where she was going, she did not look really where she walked and, to her surprise, felt a watery relief all over her waist.

By the time she realized this, the sprinkler had already passed to water the rest of the yard and she was already screaming. Her sweater and shorts were soaked and it was not comfortable at all. Not to mention that water was not good for leather. What if it shrunk?

Today was already proving to her to be the worst day ever and nothing was going to change about that. One could mess with her and makeup but if they messed with her clothes, they were utterly through.

She then stomped off to the bus stop because she did not Want Andrew driving her to school.

The grass felt squishy under her feet. It was gross and smelly like slugs under her perfectly good heels.

But as she walked, she caught sight of the large yellow school bus that would take her to school. Though it was just as plain and dirty as it always was, to her it looked like some sort of golden angel so she picked up her pace.

She power walked to the bus but that was not something you should do in heels. She didn't know that until now and that's why, when only just inches away from the sidewalk and the golden angel sent to take her away, her foot slipped.

She fell heals over head and before she could register, she had his the ground with a very loud squish.

For what seemed like forever, she stared into the empty sky, a never ending sea of blue. It was nostalgic in a way. She remembered always doing this with a friend she had when she was younger. It was so long ago and she hardly remembered it. Still, it made her mildly happy and she forgot all her troubles for a moment.

It was the sound of children her age laughing maniacally that brought her back to her senses. Before she gained strength in her arms to push herself off her lawn, her face flushed bright red and she began to regret ever getting out of bed this morning.

She pushed herself up but she couldn't shake this weird feeling that her tailbone was just shoved into her chest. The bus driver, she being the only nice one there, scolded the laughing children and exited her bus to help Melody up.

Melody was already up when she began to help but she still tried to help her up like she couldn't see what was infront of her. Melody was now under the impression that her bus driver was not very smart and slapped her hands away, all the while telling her not to touch her.

Before her bus driver could lay another finger on her, she rushed onto the steps and into the bus as fast as she could. As soon as the other students caught sight of her more than unhappy on the verge of tears face, they were quieted but she still heard some minor snickering and she still heard them talking behind her back.

She was so flustered, so upset, so wet, so sticky, so hot, do angry. She did not like this feeling at all. She would give anything to get rid of the feeling.

There was also a smell. This awful nauseating poop like smell. She really wanted that gone, to.

Did was quick to blame the snickering and immature boys behind her who's laughter only seemed to grow when she looked at them. Boys like them were always so nasty and smelly do she was sure the smell came from them.

She snapped at them and asked them what they were looking at. They began to pretend as though they were not staring at her but she knew they were, anyway.

Melody shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the constant staring she was receiving from her fellow classmates, uncomfortable and, as previously stated, flustered.

But her stomach dropped when she felt her shorts smear some sort of wet and sticky substance further into her seat.

Surely it wasn't so. She sure didn't want it to be so so surely this day would cut her some slack. Perhaps she could bribe the day to make it not so.

But her pleas went unheard when she fully comprehended that the pool like smell was coming from her and what was on the back of her shorts was some rather new dog poop.

Yes, dog poop. When the mayor's daughter had slipped in the grass, she fell straight into some dog poop.

Dog poop. There was dog poop on her shorts. She had dog poop on her wonderful clothes.

This was officially the worst day ever.

Melody’s mind raced with thought of how to get out of this. She really looked at it from every corner she possibly could but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of anything.

So, in her moment of panic, she pushed herself into the default actions of all default actions.

She took about fifteen tissues from the tissue box she always kept in her seat and spit on them. Once she did that, as discreetly as possible, she began to rub the disgusting substance of her shorts till the leather felt smooth and looked creamy under her fingers.

The stench was still there but she could just blame it on someone else.

She crumpled up the tissues and tossed them under the nasty boys seat without them knowing, It was her vengeance for having them laugh at her.

She'd leave the stain on the seat so she could blame that on someone else, to; She would tell her teachers that on a day she was absent because of the flu, some other student sat in her seat and had an accident. It was the perfect story and she was sure they would never see through it.

With a slight smirk on her face, she rode the bus to school patiently.

The day almost seemed to get hotter when they got to school, though; Like thirty degrees hotter. It seemed to be twice that in vehicles and the Windows just reflected all the heat and Sunday's back onto her skin. Melody just knew she was going to get sunburnt and she was utterly miserable about it.

She had to do all she could to protect her poor perfect skin and in the mess that that morning was, she had completely forgotten to put any sunscreen on. Now she regretted a little not making Andrew drive her.

As all the kids got off, she saw in the window that her bus driver was getting perpetually perturbed by the awful smell. Melody just waited for her to find the tissues under the boy's seat. They wouldn't almost surely get blamed for it.y  
y  
Only Melody would think they'd deserve the punishment.

Things seemed like they were looking up from here, that maybe something in this wretched day would go right.

Melody did not so much as touch the stone steps that led into school with the toes of her boots before she fell flat on her face. The oh so very cool headed popular girl tripped on air and smack her palms, face and elbows against the heated stone steps.

The scrapes were minor. They hardly even bled and yet she still felt as though she had been shot in the chest about six times.

Nonetheless, she carried on like a true soldier and made her way to class as it had been about five minutes before it would start and she did not not not not not want to be late.

Though she knew her parents would forgive her for being late, the school never would and she did not want her perfect record marred. Melody had a strong desire to be just as cool and successful as her elder siblings, John and Mary. She would not wants to be the disappointment in the family now would she.y  
Yay  
The heat had frazzled hereby head. The first class she had attempted to enter wasn't even hers. She had forgotten that her class had been moved last week to two rooms after that.  
Yy  
Once she actually found her class, she had forgotten how to operate the door andy the whole class had seen her pull on a door she had to push open. She only figured it out when her kind history teacher, Mr. Wood opened it for her and let her in.

Embarrassed, she sat herself down in her seat by the window without so much as thanking him.

The lesson was long. Every minute felt like an hour and it was about something she really really really didn't care about; Mesopotamians. They were so old and it hurt Melody's head to even think about people existing that long ago. What use could it possibly be for her, in the twenty first century, to learn about something so old and ugly?

Overall, she didn't like the subject and she just really hoped Mr. Wood would not ask her any question about a subject she refused to learn about.

But of course, this was the worst day ever and it would not give her a break no matter how much she begged for one.

She was snapped out of her daze when she heard Mr. Wood and his pearly white teeth said her name in a very loud and clear voice.

When she looked him in the eye, he proceeded to ask her whether or not the Mesopotamians had a written language or not.

Melodys stomach dropped.

She panicked. It was a really long time ago and she had heard of earlier tribes that had no written language so surely not. It was only the finest common logic she used.

On reflex and without thinking it though too hard, she said no.

And of course, she was wrong. A wind of minor laughter swept over her class. Melody felt so embarrassed that she probably would have dug a hole and buried herself in it.

Mr. Wood had told her in such a nice voice that she had been wrong and if she were anyone else, she would have felt consoled but she knew Mr. Wood better than that and she knew her grades better than that. Mr. Wood was disappointed in her and she could see it in his deep brown eyes.

From then on, he continued to talk about the Mesopotamians and other cultures from that time in vivid detail but she didn't care about any of it. She had a very sour taste in her mouth and stomach and she didn't care one bit.

The window she sat beside which gave an absolutely splendid view of the beautiful school grounds seemed to amplify the heat just like the windows in the car. She should have expected no less. She felt as though her sweat was boiling and that her wonderful makeup was about to melt off her face.

It amused her how even though the middle of the flame, the hottest flame of all, was blue, this blinding deafening murdering heat felt like nothing short of pure white rage like the rage she felt right now at this wretched day. It was almost as though the day was pushing back at her if a day could do that. She suspected it didn't matter either way.

She was the first to try to leave history class. The moment it ended and the moment Mr. Wood began to wish all his beloved students good days, she shot up from her seat and sprinted towards the door.

But she was stopped by an outstretched hand that took hold of her small shoulder.

She looked up to see that it was Mr. Wood that stopped her and he said to her the following words;

“Life's too short to be perfect, kid. Remember that.”

And then he proceeded to leave before her like those words were supposed to mean anything important. Melody was completely unaware that Mr. Wood wanted to look cool infront of his students. Unfortunately now she did and now she knew he was just that pathetic.

She left that classroom feeling completely and utterly mad at Mr. Woof for no real reason at all.

The next was math class with the oh so very chipper Mrs. Gladness. Suiting name for an obnoxious woman, Melody would always say.

She felt relieved because she had a good handle on math. She had even been complimented by Andrew of all people. She wore that memory as a badge of honor or something but she had a memory she was more fond of than even that.

She remembered a friend she had when she was small that always came to her to copy her homework. Even though her friend was mildly cheating, she still assisted her freely because she like her friend too much. 

Why did they grow apart, anyway?

But she tried to avert her mind to the math class but her teachers attitude was less than appealing to look at.

Melody figured it could be worse. Though Mrs. Gladness was not her favorite person, she was the same as she had ever been. Melody was just a bit thankful that she didn't change for the worst.

She was just talking about the usual trigonometry and how to calculate the perimeter of a triangle with only algebra. Melody did not mind the subject but she certainly did not like it as much as Mrs. Gladness did.

Overall, the class fine.

That was, of course, until Mrs. Gladness declared a sudden quiz. A quiz no one had studied for and a quiz no one wanted to do.

Melody chewed on her bottom lip as discreetly as possible. Of course math would betray her to. Why did she even think otherwise? Math, one of her oldest friends would taunt her just like everything else did. That's not what friends did, though. Friends were there for each other when one had a bad day. Could it be that Melody Smith, the daughter of the mayor and befriender of subjects in school, had chosen bad friends?

Only time would tell she guessed.

Mrs. Gladness practically frolicked through class, the ground shaking with every step, to hand out to sheets of paper to every one of her students. The paper was sticky from where she touched it because she clearly had a jelly filled doughnut in the last twenty four hours.

The mere thought of one of those jelly filled monstrosities entering the mouth of that woman made Melody want to gag but she didn't luckily. She thought it a mercy that she didn't provoke her fellow students thought to going where her mind went as well because there was no unseeing that image.

Mrs. Gladness then told her entire class that it was to be timed and if they did not finish the short one page test in twenty five minutes, they would get an f on the test. No only that but they would have to spend some time after class to do it again.

Melody did not hear her say start because she was far too busy looking in horror at the problems at the test.

There were only about twelve problems with the same basic principles. That was not the problem, the problem was neither of quantity nor consistency. If it was, she could easily overcome it.

The problem was the time and only the type. 

Every single problem was purely made up of letters being divided by each other. A, C, X, Z, and b were all placed above a fraction line so that they could be decided by a positive J but not before solving the addition problem of c squared and b cubed or the multiplication problem of m squared and T in the parenthesis. 

That was oy the first problem. The next had C to the thirty fifth power being divided by b to the seventeenth power before being wholly multiplied by a to the eighty ninth power. After that, the whole thing was to be multiplied by itself sixty eight times and divided by x.

After that, there was a lonely little equation of g. No exponents or extra symbols. Just g. It just stood there like Melody had been given any information on what a single g could even mean. The more she stared, the less it looked like a g and more like her imminent demise. It was truly the face of cruelty itself.

After that, there was a big stream of b; like twenty of them in a line. They were on line to be multiplied by a b to the twenty third power that already had its hands full with a denominator of a c to the seventeenth power and two parenthesis at its sides. 

From then on, it just got worse. Exponents doubled and turned negative while the rest of the alphabet hit involved. It got so much worse in fact it was not something Melody wanted to comprehend much less describe.

Melody was pretty sure every student in this classroom, even Mrs. Gladness, even this wretched day itself could agree with her when she said that these problems were not only illogical, but they were also way past her grade. Only a senior in high school could handle this kind of ridiculous torture in under twenty five minutes, not a normal fourteen year old girl having a very very bad day.

This sort of torment was not just casually introduced without like fifty days of exposition to get to this point. Not only did she have absolutely no idea how to get these problems gone but she also had no memory of ever receiving a lesson about it.

It was then that she established that obviously some switch with some high school program or some glitch in Mrs. Gladness’ computer happened and Melody had absolutely no reason or obligation to answer these questions. They were too hard, simple as that.

However, why Melody waited for the timer to run out to bring it up with Mrs. Gladness is something even she herself will never understand.

Despite the fact that Mrs. Gladness used a timer on her smartphone, instead of it being a warm and welcoming jingle, it was a harsh and cold buzzer like the kind you always see in movies or the sort you expect the military to have. It was the sort of alarm intended to wake up really deep sleepers and instill fear in the hearts of innocent students like herself.

This somehow made Mrs. Gladness look twice as intimidating when she began to take the students tests. Her sudden and inexplicit fear only seemed to build from there like she had some sort of preemptive sight that was telling her she was going to get chewed out big time by her usually very nice math teacher.

For some reason, like Mrs. Gladness knew what she did, she saved Melody for last. Melody just really wanted her to get it over with. Did She do something wrong? Was she right in not doing the test? Did everyone else understand theirs?

An F was so close and she could almost taste its bitter aroma. This was going to maar her grades for the rest of the year. It was always going to be remembered. This would forever be the day that she disappointed her family by not only failing a test, but not writing anything down at all.  
Mrs. Gladness would call her trouble one and a problem child and she didn't think she'd be able to tolerate that all.

She really messed up real bad this time.

As Mrs. Gladness approached her prized student, Melody Smith, all she saw was the girl sprinting out of the classroom with all her might without a single explanation.

Melody knew why she ran, however. Everyone noticed that she left before class ended but all she was concerned about was leaving before she had a panic attack in front of her entire class about her now ruined grades.

Her suddenly fleeing class was merely because of this reason and thus reason alone. She knew she was not the best of kids, she knew her own heart better than anyone of her family members did. She knew about her fault, all the people she had hurt and all the people she had lied to.

Yet despite all this, her family still called her a good girl and gave her everything she could ever want. They loved her because they didn't know all that she had done.

What terrified her the most was that one day they might just find out and should that day come, they would never forgive her.

She couldn't bare to think of it all being exposed and that's why she ran.

But the school halls were crowded with teachers and students alike. They all had things to do and places to be which meant that they all walked in the same forward current like that of a river or stream.

Melody, who not only walked but ran against that current, had difficulty moving like she should. Shoulders kept bumping her shoulders and shins kept hitting her shins. On any other day she would have been annoyed but now she was filled with a bitter sweet nostalgia. In many ways, this way of moving reminded her of soccer. 

At one point in time, before she discovered fashion, Melody used to be an avid soccer player. Yes that may be hard to believe. Despite it being a very distant memory, she recalled having a strong love for the sport so vividly.

Those days were so pure and so far gone. Yet it felt like if she just reached out her fingers, she could touch that innocent time once again-

Before Melody could even finish her thought, she found herself falling to the school floor of white, going almost entirely in a flurry of shoes moving about.

Someone must have hit her leg diagonally, a motion she was very familiar with being a soccer player in the past, and knocked her over. They probably hadn't meant to send her spiraling to the ground to be trampled on by her fellow classmates but it had not mattered in the moment.

She extended her hands out to stop the fall, absolutely certain she was going to hit the ground and aggravate her scraped palms but to her surprise, she stopped abruptly.

It was sudden but Melody immediately recognized that it was a hand that held her up by her shoulder and it was hand much larger than her own so it was either an adults hand or a boy's hand.

A voice asked if she was alright. Her heart beat raced so all she could recognize was the fact that it was a boy's voice but she could not recognize who it belonged to.

Hesitantly she affirmed that she was and forced her legs to carry her off the ground to a confident stand. 

She was about to thank her but the words died in her throat when her eyes met his and his eyes met hers. She suddenly became very nervous, a light sweat breaking out over her skin. To add to that, she became very pale and she suddenly stopped breathing.

Yes, it was a boy and yes he did help help her but this was not just any random school boy. This dark skinned boy's name was Danny West.

Tall, dark, handsome. One of the best baseball players in school and a wonderful romantic. The son of a rich businessman and a popular actress. Stylish and practical. Readers, meet Danny West, one of the most popular boys in school.

One thing Melody took as a great pride was the fact that she knew him as just Dan because their families used to be neighbors and Melody was his friend long before he was mister popular hot stuff.

Every girl in school was proved to shrinking and blushing under his kind gaze and even though Melody had known him when he was smaller, she knew he had come a long way from the young boy in glasses who loved to play in the yard with her. That was certainly true enough but one thing she always found admirable about him was how, even though it was popular, he never let it taint him as a person. He only used the expectations of his teachers and family as goals for self improvement.

He was truly a better person than she was.

Her precious white heels had given her blisters so she had to take them off and, with Dan's assistance, hopped over to a chair by a vending machine.

Both Melody and Dan were quite popular in school so when they were around each other, other students couldn't help but stop and stare. That usually made Melody quite uncomfortable but Dan thought it was fine.

Melody never really understood how their relationship turned out this way. Even after all the popularity Dan gained and even after drifted apart as friends through the years, he never failed to see her as a friend and only a friend.

Unlike herself who became fully aware that Dan was a boy and a very handsome one at that but somehow knowing this made it difficult for her to remain friends with him. 

Yes, they were not little kids anymore, but was it possible that her view on life and those around her was jaded? Could it be possible that viewing Dan as a boy rather than that kid she used to know was wrong?

It was funny how it was only today that she took her overused frame of mind into a clearer perspective. Only on a terrible day like this could she ever reevaluate the crutch she had been walking with for so long.

The old wooden chair Dan had helped her to was squeaky and rickety like it would collapse on her at any moment. She blamed it on the chairs age and not her own body weight. She refused to let a chair make her feel self conscious about her perfectly normal weight.

The squeaks of the chair when she shifted her sitting position were all she had to occupy the silence when Dan had left her there to go get her something that could help. As much as she knew feeling abandoned was stupid and illogical, she could not deny that she did. Dan was a perfect gentleman but perhaps he didn't owe her of all people a perfect gentlemanly performance. They were old friends after all.

Melody was probably bring a bit over dramatic when she had signed in relief at the sight of his tall silhouette in the distance. Her prince had come back for her and that was all that mattered.

Dan had handed her some small band aids for the popped blisters on the backs of her feet. They were the white plastic sort intended for minor scrapes and scratches but they were all he could find. For his sake, Melody forced herself to be grateful.

The kind boy had even given her the water bottle from his lunch like she had come back from a long journey across the Sahara desert. Yes, her day had felt like a terrible journey of sorts but even she knew the difference between literal and metaphorical.

He kept asking if she was alright or not and it was beginning to bother her but she kept herself silent for his sake. He was her some badly needed pampering, after all and that was something she hadn't received all day.

And the last of the good hearted boys gifts to the rather miserable princess was a pair of grey ugly, but most of all old soccer shoes. She recognized the hideous things immediately, having much experience with them in the past.

He told her that she shouldn't wear heels anymore, no offense, because they could really hurt her feet one day and she already appeared to be struggling to walk with them. It wasn't something someone her age really should wear, in his opinion anyways. That's why her got her those soccer shoes as appropriate replacements and he left her own shoes where the soccer shoes should be where she could pick them up after school.

Melody did not take offense to his words, as per his request. She knew he only said what he thought was best and what was on his mind because he was worried. He had always been that way.

Melody told him that she was fine and thanked him for the shoes which she promptly put on.

For a moment, she was caught under a spell. The feel of the shoes inside and out, the shoelaces and even the grimy old smell were all so nostalgic. It was a smell so real, far superior to any of her perfumes. 

But she silenced those thoughts, knowing that even though she was always fascinated by the old soccer smell, it was popular opinion that roses no strawberries smelled better and that was all that mattered. How could she expect to get anywhere in the world if she didn't go with the popular opinion, the fashion, the latest trends?

But yet even those thoughts were cut short by an alien sound. Not so much alien per say, much more just something she, Melody Smith never expected or knew could come from herself.

It was a deep sound, bubbling and churning inside her like a fizzy drink being opened for the first time. At that moment, in front of one of the most popular boys in school, Melody Smiths stomach let out the most hideous growl like that of an angry lion.

Almost on cue, the girl flushed. Her cheeks heated up, her whole face bright red like a tomato. She was so utter embarrassed she thought she might faint on the spot. Why now and why in front of Dan of all people?

She just knew he was going to laugh at her or maybe just leave, so she avoided his gaze and looked away, to the floor to be exact. If anyone else heard, she was sure she would be laughed at by the whole school and she was not even sure if Dan had enough kindness in him to let this slide.

But, to her surprise, no harsh laughter or sudden exiting of the area. In fact he had not seemed to to react in the slightest bit like a human beings stomach growling was completely normal or something.

Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to catch Dan just looking at her slightly confused. He looked at her like she was overreacting which could not be true. Melody couldn't recall a single time when she over reacted to anything ever in her life.

Infact, if she recalled correctly, it was Dan who overreacted to the silliest things far more often and yet he just smiled at his old friend and asked her if she was hungry like it was the simplest thing to admit in the world.

Obviously yes. She being a well fed and very healthy child, spent the entirety of the morning being overly stressed and over thinking stuff so she hadn't the time to eat a single bite of anything. 

That's how she told the story to herself, anyways.

Like any good liar, she denied it immediately with the most convincing expression she could muster. Even though she was frazzled, surely she retained her top notch acting skills, right? Surely Dan couldn't see through her acting skills, at least.

But without Even so much as responding, Dan waltzed over to the illuminated front of the vending machine, four shiny quarters already in hand.

Before she could protest, he dropped the coins into the little black slick and dialed on the number pad the numbers two, zero, and five. After a moment, there was a minor screeching of mechanisms, a whine of metal hinges, and the sound of a full plastic package dropping to the bottom of the vending machine.

Dan hummed happily. He removed his hands from his pockets to kneel down and reach into the machine. Once he did, pulled out a slim package of commonplace American peanuts.

Melody hid an enormous cringe at the idea of the taste and the calories of the snack. It was not something someone as beautiful as her should eat under any circumstances if she wanted to be popular or even get a job in the near future, that was for sure.

But sure enough Dan, with his innocent stare, outstretched his hand and handed the package to her. Dan, in all his ignorance and naivety, handed her a package of greasy fatty gross peanuts. 

She could almost forget the act of kindness, how he spent his own money for her sake, and how utterly starving she really was to take in the full extent of this self proclaimed insult. Couldn't he gave just given her a pack of gum or a chocolate bar instead of nasty peanuts?

Her instant and most involuntary reaction was to tell him in her most cold voice that she wasn't going to eat something so nasty and fatty. 

Even though she knew Dan was allergic to peanuts and therefore had no idea whether they were nasty or not because he never got the chance to taste the,, she said it anyway but instead of getting insulted, Dan just looked at her with an honest expression.

It was the kind of expression you see on your mother or your grandmother that, no matter how stubborn you are feeling it how good your argument it, you just can't seem to argue with.

He told Melody that she did not need to stress little stuff like that and she should because, in a voice almost identical to Mr. Woods, life is too short to be perfect.

His words, though identical to Mr. Woods, did not make her so angry and she accepted the peanuts without complaint.

The scent of the food once she opened the package was almost hypnotic and it almost disturbed her he quickly she ate the peanuts and still wanted more. She was almost tempted to lick the wrappers.

In all her time eating the best health foods and purest green spinach smoothies suggested to her by the finest teenaged beauty magazines, she had never eaten something that tasted nearly as good as a pack of greasy nasty fatty peanuts. Yes, it was probably horrible for her but it was so much fun to eat it.

And what was the purpose of miserably extending one's life for no reason.

As she was gleefully enjoying the aftertaste of the disgusting things, Dan smiled and said that those weren't his words. He said it with a polite laugh like her expected her to know what he meant.

She glanced at him in confusion. He got the hint but she could visibly see him become disappointed at the prospect of her forgetting something so important.

Dan then told her. He said those words were not hers but Julia's.

Melody felt a bit irritated by his explanation because she could have sworn she never heard the name before in her life.

She asked Dan who that was in the most polite way possible but, so unlike him, he was hesitant to answer.

Once her did, he just said the name Julia again like a second time and some peanuts would suddenly jog her memory.

He then began to explain, much to her relief.

He said that Julia was an older girl the two of them used to play with when they were kids. He said Julia's parents were Melody's neighbors at a time so they saw a lot of each other. He said that she and Julia were inseparable friends, best friends even.

He explained it so fervently, Melody thought for a moment that maybe he was actually Julia's best friend but she still insisted she never heard of Julia in her life.

But then Dan said the words he should have said at the very beginning and the words that would have made her remember everything.

He said that both she and Julia were the star players on their mini neighborhood soccer team and they won every year. That Melody was the only one who could keep up with Julia and that's why they became such good friends and rivals.

Oh right. That's what it was.

Now in Melody's defense, Dan really should have led with that statement when she said she didn't remember but in Dans defense, Melody really shouldn't have forgotten someone as important to her as Julia.

It was funny how associating soccer of all things with a long forgotten person could revive every single memory Melody had of her old friend, every sound, every image, every feeling.

How could she have forgotten her dear friend, Julia Wood, Mr. Woods only daughter. 

Mr. Wood was always saying unusual and dramatic statements like Shakespeare quotes and the like. That was probably where Julia got her unusual vocabulary.

She had also inherited her father's looks and complexion.

Julia loved her father more than anything, even though he was always busy with his job. She respected her father and wanted to grow up to be just like him.

Right handed, four inches taller than Melody, allergic cats but had a pet cat anyway.

All the memories came flooding back into her mind like a hurricane and she could not stop herself from taking in a large amount of air.

Out loud but to no one in particular, she scolded herself. How could she have forgotten Julia? Her best friend who she drifted apart from because of what, the passage of time?

No, it was because Melody didn't have the time. It was because she thought herself too old and mature for childish games and wasted away in an obsession with appearances, vain things and her own image. It was because she cared more about what boys and people who didn't even know her would think about her than what actually made her happy.

It was she changed for the worse that she forgot what was actually important.

Melody had forgotten something so wholesome and nice as merely being a good girl to her family, her friends, and those around her.

And the only reason why she remembered now and why it had been an out of reach memory that had been bothering her all day was because of the promise Julia made her one rainy Sunday afternoon.

“If you ever have a really really bad day, I'll be here always and I promise to make it better.”

Despite the pain in her feet, she stood up and looked Dan dead in the eye.

She asked him rather urgently a question she was aching to ask; Anderson park, the park that Julia and their team used to always play at; Was the park still open and did Julia still live around there.

Dan was a bit baffled by her sudden urgency but he was quick to inform her that not only was Julia still living on the house on the hill near the park, but she still visited the park every day to play soccer. He visited her occasionally and, over many years, the girl had become quite good; almost on the level of the professionals on television.

That was all Melody needed to hear.

She immediately made plans to not only visit the park once more but to also find Julia again and talk to her like she used to. Maybe then she would remember a piece of who she once was. Maybe then she would become better as a person.

Just as soon as school ended, she would ride the bus and run to the park like she always did when she was much smaller to see Julia.

Her heart raced at the idea, all too ready to sprint there right then. It would certainly be easier to do in soccer shoes than heels, wouldn't it.

But before she did anything else, she thanked Dan for everything he had done. He said that it was his pleasure and that that's what friends were for.

Unfortunately, as soon as that exchange was finished, Melody heard her full name being called rather angrily by a few familiar adult voices.

She turned to see not only her bus driver but Mrs. Gladness also approaching her. Melody shrunk a little bit because she knew what was coming.

Dan said his goodbyes and ran off to his next class like a good boy since he had very little to do with the trouble Melody was in. She did not get angry about it, though.

Mrs. Gladness went first. After a great deal of scolding and giving her an F on her first test, she proceeded to watch her and tutor her carefully as she made her student take the test again. Melody found it was much easier than she first assumed once it was explained to her and Mrs. Gladness told her solemnly that if she had tried, she probably would have gotten an A plus.

Her bus driver was less angry and more exasperated. She said that some of the kids on the bus saw Melody throw some tissues under the boy's seats. They had kept a very close eye on her because someone does not just walk into the bus with dog poop on the back of their shorts and get ignored. The bus driver was going to punish her but only with after school cleaning. It wasn't anything too bad.

Overall Melody had learned her lesson but she was shocked at how little it bothered her to be busted for something bad she did. In many ways, it almost made her feel better, more free.

But of course, after this her day still was not done.

Even though she was going to recover just fine, Melody bought flowers; Purple Iris; to bring to Ursula as she visited her to apologize. Being that she now saw that her injury had practically been her fault all together, she felt a burning desire to apologies and that was that.

It was Andrew who had driven her to the hospital there and as they drove back, he seemed much less angry with her than he was before.

Melody was more than a little grateful for that.

But even still, she still had more to do. Just one last place to go.

Towards the end of the day, the storm clouds gathered around the sun in thick dark blotches and crystal clear raindrops began to fall from the sky above.

It didn't stop a young dark haired girl from juggling her soccer ball on her knee like it was the easiest and most enjoyable thing to do.

Even after all these years, her favorite sport still hadn't gotten old.

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw somebody.

She quickly turned to see that it was a familiar girl a bit younger than her, all suited up in uniform to play soccer.

She felt a slight smirk tug on her lips as she took in the rather miserable appearance of her young friend, Meldy Smith.

“Well you look like your day has been wretched.”

“How did you guess?”


End file.
